The Betrothed Sister (32 page)

25

Kiev, May 1072

In April Thea removed from the Convent of St Trinity to Novgorod where she was welcomed by Prince Vsevolod in the terem's great hall. He told her that she was to travel to Kiev for the translation of the two Russian saints, Boris and Gleb. Shortly after that she would marry Prince Vladimir in the Cathedral of St Sophia. During this meeting with Prince Vsevolod, Thea kept her eyes lowered. She was determined to impress him with her demeanour and her improved Russian. She clearly succeeded, for he smiled upon her and spoke to her in a voice softened with kindness.

A week later Princess Anya, her ladies and guards travelled with Thea and Katya south towards Kiev. A fortnight later they entered the great city fortress through the Lion's Gate.

Prince Vsevolod's palace in Kiev surpassed Thea's expectations. She had never seen such extravagant, brightly coloured hangings and so many glass windows inside a building not a church. The rooms were filled with carved tables, chairs, cushions. On chill April evenings warmth circulated the chambers from corner stoves. Pipes climbed the walls and fed into chimneys.

She stepped through an ornate doorway into Prince Vsevolod's public room. It was grander, though not larger, than the halls she was used to, and it was, without doubt, more beautiful to behold than the halls belonging to King Sweyn. It was, by far, more impressive than the hall in the Novgorod kremlin. Mosaics covered the floors instead of rushes, and Turkish carpets lay casually around on which to place her slippered feet. They were so thick that she thought she could sit on them.

The prince swept forward to greet her, in his long fur-trimmed robe. He informed her during their short audience that Mother Sophia had confided in him that she was delighted with Thea's progress. He told her, still grasping her hands, that he was pleased that she could speak in complicated sentences and could also write Rus words on birch tablets. Mother Sophia reported that her knowledge of the Faith was excellent. She said that Thea carried herself proudly but discreetly. The English princess would indeed make a suitable wife for Prince Vladimir. Vsevolod allowed Thea's hands to drop, clapped his big hands together and announced that he was happy to bring her into the heart of the family.

What went unsaid was that he expected her to produce his son's heir. She knew that this was even more important here in Russia than anywhere else she had dwelled. According to Katya, women could be divorced if they were barren. She felt the prince studying her, his eyes appraising her, ravishing her flat belly, dwelling momentarily on her shapely hips, and so, remembering Katya's words, Thea suspected that was what he thought. She felt angry. It felt as if she were a brood mare and not a woman and certainly not as if she was an important English princess. She thought of her grandmother and how independent she had been. Her grandmother would never have been divorced by her grandfather, though he might have had sons by others had Grandmother not given him sons. Grandmother would still have been her grandfather's beloved wife and head of her household. Thea held her head high and matched Prince Vsevolod's appraising look with an icy stare. He had the grace to look away, though for a moment she wondered if she had made an enemy of her husband's father. Then he surprised her. ‘You are a proud princess. That is good.' She waited and then without smiling slightly inclined her head. They had taught her well and she would match their chilly demeanour with equal frost. Frost for frost. Ice for ice. Pride for pride.

After the interview with Prince Vsevolod, Princess Anya sat companionably beside Thea on a long divan covered with rich cloth and littered with many silk cushions. Princess Anya told her that the family had chosen an auspicious day for her wedding. Mother Sophia had calculated the perfect date in accordance with the phases of the moon and Thea's menstrual period. The day chosen was to be a Friday which would be the first of the three days for the wedding ceremony. The Friday chosen was three weeks after the Easter canonisation of St Dimitri in the Kiev cathedral. Three was a fortunate number, one of religious significance. Princess Anya put on her most serious face and said firmly that although the prince and princess would be bedded on the first night, they must not consummate their union until the third.

‘It is so much to remember,' Thea said feeling overwhelmed. ‘Is all this necessary? I prefer a simpler wedding.'

‘That is not our way, my dear. I must describe the ceremonies to you so that you make no mistakes,' she said.

Thea sighed. This was not going to be enjoyable. She had waited so long for her betrothal to end. She thought of the joyful weddings she had participated in when she had been younger. There had been flowers and a simple exchange of vows, sometimes with a priest present and sometimes not, and then a great feast with dancing and lots of mead and honeyed wine. She could not bear this. I wish I was back in England with Elditha and grandmother and my sister and brothers. I wish I was marrying a thane and not a prince of a land stuffed full of stupid ceremony. She found her mind drifting back to what seemed to her now sun-filled days with the scent of hay. She hardly heard what Anya was saying.

‘First, is your rushnyk ready as you will kneel upon it there before the Iconostasis in St Sophia?' Anya, pregnant for the third time, folded her hands below her swelling stomach.

‘Yes, it is.'

‘That is good, Thea. And we have chosen your maidens.'
They have even chosen my bridesmaids. Let them. It can't get much worse. If only Gudrun were here.
Then she remembered …

‘The stories!' Thea exclaimed excitedly. Her face fell. ‘There is no Padar to judge them.' She had heard nothing further of Padar and Gudrun, not since her letters.

‘I have chosen for him.' Princess Anya poured them a cup of kvass each.

She found herself smiling. Her lip curled. She had her own story ready for her prince, safely hidden away in her coffer. She took the cup from Princess Anya and sipped. She liked this Russian drink. In fact, she liked much about Russia, except for the fact that women were overly protected and she could not make her own decisions.

‘Padar may be back in time for my wedding.' Thea spoke her wishful thought aloud.

‘I hope so, Thea, but that would be too late. We had to decide on which girls must be your maidens without him.'

‘So who are to be my maids?'

Anya folded her arms, her elegant silk sleeves trailing onto the carpet.

‘Go on,' Thea said calmly though she did not feel peace in her heart.

Anya touched her lower lip with an elegantly ringed finger. ‘Well now, let us see. Vera, Kalina, Vira, and Julia. I think we must include Katya. She has been your companion and her father stands high in my husband's estimation.'

Thea nodded. ‘I like these girls well enough. May I hear the stories?' At least she was to have Katya.

‘You will have a maidens' party. They will bathe you and prepare you for your wedding on the following day. On the night of your maidens' celebration we shall hear the stories. What do you think?' Anya said, smiling. She turned to face Thea and embraced her, folding her affectionately into the wide, trailing silken sleeves. She held Thea back. Thea could not return her warmth. She felt all this was happening to a puppet princess. She was not really present and Anya did not even notice it. ‘The wedding is on the seventeenth day of May, the day selected by Mother Sophia,' Anya was saying. ‘This is only fourteen nights away.' She released Thea and clapped her hands. ‘And, the family has a gift for you and Vladimir, one you shall know first.'

‘A gift?'
What could it be, another birthing stool?

As Anya nodded, her eyes widened. ‘Thea, you are to have your own house here in Kiev, not as grand a palace as this, but it is an elegant two-storeyed house with two wings, a tiled roof, rooms with glass windows or, at least windows of isinglass.' Thea came alive again, the puppet princess banished. She would have somewhere of her own, a home of her own. ‘You can see the river with all its boats from all four tall windows. There are two courtyards, herb and fruit gardens and a small apple orchard. It has an encircling wall and do not worry ever. Even though Kiev can be dangerous, guards will be alert for trouble. You do not ever need to venture into the city streets.'
Ah, Thea thought. We shall see
. ‘You will have a large part of the house for your terem and a new chapel for your own use.' Anya reached out and excitedly clasped Thea's hands. ‘It is called the Chapel of St Theodora and it has been consecrated already. You will move into it soon so that you and Vladimir do not share the same palace before the ceremony. I shall stay with you to help you prepare.'

Thea said politely, ‘It is more than I had wished for. I thought I would still share your terem here in the palace.'

‘I think you will prefer to have your own household. Russian noblewomen organise the whole house. They travel around their castles and estates making sure everything is just so. By now, you must recognise that it is pleasanter for us to entertain guests in the terem and not to mingle with men at their feasting. Some foreign noblewomen find this strange, but it is a gentler way, I think.'

‘I shall manage my household efficiently,' Thea said firmly, knowing that she was not convinced that she could ever enjoy confinement in a terem. She remembered the saints' days' feasts the women and children attended at her uncles' court at Westminster when she had been a child. She reflected wistfully on the jugglers, the harpists, the storytellers, the great central hearth and the sound of male voices singing. Pushing the memory away, she bit her lip and asked, ‘Is Lady Olga to attend my wedding?'

‘Yes, my dear, she must. Her husband is my husband's steward. Lady Olga is very important here and, although you may wish it otherwise, she will help you prepare for the wedding.'

Thea felt herself tense. Raising her head proudly, she rose from her cushions and stretched to her full height. ‘Lady Olga treated Gudrun cruelly. I cannot forgive her.'

‘Sit, Thea, such an outburst does not become you. Life can be unfair. I understand your frustration but you must swallow your pride. Let the past be the past. After your wedding you need not see Lady Olga unless she decides to visit you. You can choose your own servants. When the skald returns, you will see Gudrun once again. Do not allow Olga to spoil your wedding.' Anya poured another cup of cherry wine and offered it to Thea. Sensing defeat, Thea sank back onto the cushions. ‘A wedding is a joyous occasion,' Anya added. Thea accepted the cup and slowly sipped the wine. The wine, at least, was sweet and soothing, if Olga was not.

Anya lifted her cup to her lips, sipped a little and set it down again. ‘There, that is better. Now, there is something else I have intended to tell you.'

Thea gripped her cup tightly.

‘My husband hopes that Padar and Earl Connor will establish new business interests in Kiev. Gudrun is forgiven for whatever magic she may have inclined towards. It was a bad year. Everyone suspected we had witches at court. I promise you, we believe she is innocent of spellmaking.'

‘Of course Gudrun is innocent.' Thea almost dropped her cup. ‘The women say that I am to save some of my bathwater from the maidens' party for my husband to drink on our wedding night so that he falls in love with me. Is that not spellmaking?'

‘No, it is not,' Anya said. ‘It is a harmless tradition. When Gudrun returns to our lands she comes back to us as Padar's wife. She is not part of the court. Olga claims that she, herself, acted in good faith.' Anya set her cup back on the table. She said in a quiet tone, ‘I believe that she was wrong, but Lady Olga was only thinking of your interests. You broke the rules and when you did that you put yourself in great danger. It is fortunate for you that Vladimir took responsibility for that escapade.' Anya took Thea's now empty cup and placed it beside her own. ‘Enough of past misdemeanours. Let us forget and forgive. Come and see my children. Eupraxia has grown fat as a piglet and is as stubborn as a mule. Rostislav is talking more and more every day. Soon you will have children of your own. Think happy thoughts and forget about Lady Olga.'

‘I shall try.' As Thea made this difficult promise, doubts about Lady Olga remained securely lodged in the recesses of her mind. She determined that when Padar returned, Gudrun would stay close to her, under her own and Vladimir's protection.

Two days before her wedding Thea was carried in her litter to her new house. Princess Anya, Lady Olga and Mother Sophia accompanied the party. There had been no point in Princess Anya telling her that she would have her own choice of servants. Three score of these were in residence already. Thea determined that when her wedding was over she would make changes. Anya had chosen her cooks and seamstresses, laundrymaids, beekeepers, servers, personal attendants, sweepers, scrubbers, gardeners and cleaners.

‘And, look at this. We unpacked your gifts from Denmark,' Princess Anya said.

Thea exclaimed over everything – the precious glassware that was laid out on top of an ash wood coffer in her chamber; the linen that had been stored into a great chest in her antechamber; her spoons; her tapestries and bolts of material which had also been unpacked and displayed. Then, as her eye flew around her bedchamber, she saw the present she had actually found difficult to accept; the birthing chair, the gift from the Danish princesses, had been ominously stowed in an alcove where every morning she would see it on awakening.

She pointed at it. ‘That will be kept from my sight until it is needed. Store it somewhere else. For me to even look on it before I conceive is bad luck.' It was probably a lie, but Thea thought St Theodosia would absolve her. She would never use that birthing chair. It was a gift given with ill-intent.

At Princess Anya's bidding, two maids ran to remove the offending chair. ‘It is not appropriate for a birthing chair to be placed in a bedchamber. It will be brought to the bath-house when your time comes. Olga supervised the unpacking. She should know better.' Anya looked around at everything else approvingly. ‘Yes, it is a beautiful room, perfect for your bridal nights.'